[ it's a simple word, but his voice is rough when it comes out of his mouth, like it costs him something to say. maybe it hurts because it's so hard to believe that he could be allowed to have this; what has he done to earn dean's affection? what has he ever done but hurt him?
but he just can't turn him away. he'll have to make himself worth this, somehow. ]
[ He smoothes a hand down over Cas' side, skin under his fingertips warm, though they're both cooling pretty quickly. ]
Let me see if any of our stuff is dry yet.
[ They've been fucking around for a while, and they'd laid everything out, so here's hoping.
At the very lease, he's wadding up his jacket that had stayed...eh. Dry enough though it's crusty with blood, and gently slipping it under Cas' head for a pillow. ]
[ he turns his head and watches dean in silence, the weight of the moment settling around him. when he places the coat under his head, he gives him a look full of gratefulness and settles, feeling the same vulnerability that dean had felt only moments ago. in his true form, he may be great and terrible, but somehow it feels like what dean is seeing now— this tired, cold, and messy body— is truest to what he really is.
it's not an idea he likes, particularly. but dean wants to stay with him, and that's enough. ]
Do you need help?
[ he wants to sleep. he can recognize the feeling from the last time his "batteries" were low. but if dean is packing up, he won't leave him to do it all on his own. not at least without asking first, anyway. ]
[ Let Dean look at what they'd spread out and determine if there's anything dry enough. One or two shirts. His jeans, definitely not. But cotton dries faster than denim, and they've been out here a while, so those, at least, are dry,
He drapes them over Cas, using his damp jeans to wipe the cum off the angels back before tossing them aside, quietly mourning the fact he's going to have to wear cum jeans until they can find a place to wash their shit. ]
cas follows him with his eyes a moment longer, but he lets dean clean him up and drape his dry shirts over his body, feeling another pinch of emotion at the base of his throat. it's overwhelming, in the way it was overwhelming to feel they had no hope, when dean cursed him for giving up— except it isn't the same kind of overwhelming. he doesn't feel hopeless.
he just doesn't know what he does feel.
it doesn't take him long to slip off, after that. with dean's shirts sealing in enough of his body heat to warm him, the moment he's no longer cold he drops like a stone into unconsciousness. ]
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[ it's a simple word, but his voice is rough when it comes out of his mouth, like it costs him something to say. maybe it hurts because it's so hard to believe that he could be allowed to have this; what has he done to earn dean's affection? what has he ever done but hurt him?
but he just can't turn him away. he'll have to make himself worth this, somehow. ]
Dean, I... I'm tired.
no subject
Let me see if any of our stuff is dry yet.
[ They've been fucking around for a while, and they'd laid everything out, so here's hoping.
At the very lease, he's wadding up his jacket that had stayed...eh. Dry enough though it's crusty with blood, and gently slipping it under Cas' head for a pillow. ]
no subject
it's not an idea he likes, particularly. but dean wants to stay with him, and that's enough. ]
Do you need help?
[ he wants to sleep. he can recognize the feeling from the last time his "batteries" were low. but if dean is packing up, he won't leave him to do it all on his own. not at least without asking first, anyway. ]
no subject
[ Let Dean look at what they'd spread out and determine if there's anything dry enough. One or two shirts. His jeans, definitely not. But cotton dries faster than denim, and they've been out here a while, so those, at least, are dry,
He drapes them over Cas, using his damp jeans to wipe the cum off the angels back before tossing them aside, quietly mourning the fact he's going to have to wear cum jeans until they can find a place to wash their shit. ]
no subject
cas follows him with his eyes a moment longer, but he lets dean clean him up and drape his dry shirts over his body, feeling another pinch of emotion at the base of his throat. it's overwhelming, in the way it was overwhelming to feel they had no hope, when dean cursed him for giving up— except it isn't the same kind of overwhelming. he doesn't feel hopeless.
he just doesn't know what he does feel.
it doesn't take him long to slip off, after that. with dean's shirts sealing in enough of his body heat to warm him, the moment he's no longer cold he drops like a stone into unconsciousness. ]